


Rock Bottom

by NCISVU



Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4530771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NCISVU/pseuds/NCISVU
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being Gibbs’ caregiver after a major injury isn’t easy but Tony knows he’s the right man for the job. Neverland episode tag. Spoilers for Neverland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock Bottom

**Author's Note:**

> This is nothing like I’d imagined it would be when I set out to write an episode tag (pre-episode tag?). It probably won’t be what you’re expecting either. 
> 
> I'm using it to fill the 'major illness or injury' prompt on my hurt/comfort bingo card.

Tony was still trying to wrap his head around Jethro's desperate, pleading phone call as he raced down the interstate from DC to Alexandria at an ungodly speed at an ungodly hour. Ever since the man had been shot by the child terrorist he'd dealt with angry Jethro, in excruciating pain Jethro, grumpier than usual Jethro, guilt ridden Jethro, betrayed Jethro, scared Jethro, reflective Jethro… the list went on forever and now apparently he was going to get to deal with broken Jethro.

_‘This should be fun,’_ he thought to himself sarcastically. But the sarcasm was just a way to mask his fear. He was a big enough man to admit that he was in way over his head.

The phone call couldn’t have come at a more inopportune moment, in the middle of the night, in the middle of Abby having a major meltdown over Major Mass Spec having a major meltdown.

And in the middle of Ducky insisting he had a new revelation that Tony needed to know about at that _very_ second.

_And_ at the same time Vance was demanding an update on their current John Doe with the USMC tat on his chest case. Metro PD had found the suspected Marine washed up on the banks of the Potomac and called them in when they’d discovered the tat.

But the man _needed_ him.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs needed _him_ , Anthony DiNozzo Junior, and he'd called and told him so in those exact words. Tony couldn't remember any such event ever happening in the past. It was either going to be very good or very, very bad and judging by how much bad they'd all experienced over the past several weeks, he was guessing it'd be the latter.

He screeched to a halt in the driveway, right behind Jethro’s truck and frantically hurried into the house, well aware that he may be walking into a trap. He never knew which Jethro he’d get when arrived at the man’s house and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t taking its toll. He just wanted his friend back. He knew Jethro wanted that too though.

“Jethro?” he called, dropping his keys on the table right inside the door.

There was silence for a moment and then a strangled, “Tony,” coming from the kitchen area of the house.

It wasn’t a trap. Tony’s gut wasn’t as finely tuned as Jethro’s but it knew enough to know that that was the voice of a man who’d finally reached his breaking point and that sent Tony heading for the kitchen at a jog. He turned the overhead light on to compliment the soft light coming from over the stove and his heart stopped when he saw the man lying slouched over on the kitchen floor with his head and shoulders propped uncomfortably against the cabinets while his crutches laid haphazardly on the floor on either side of him.

“Shit, Boss, what the hell happened?” He stopped abruptly as he continued assessing the scene. Not only was there vomit all over the jeans Jethro had refused to let him help change all week, there was sweat beading on the man’s forehead and his hands were trembling.

“Jethro?” Tony asked quietly, trying not to let the panic take over as he dropped to his knees next to the man. His reaction when he’d walked into the kitchen was that Jethro had fallen and he couldn’t get up because of his knee surgery but a closer look told him something else was wrong.

“I got dizzy,” Jethro explained, still seeming to have trouble focusing on Tony’s eyes and even more disturbing, his voice actually sounded frightened.

“You’re sweating and shaking and covered in puke,” Tony pointed out. “What happened? I feel like I should call an ambulance or Ducky or the National Guard or somebody.”

“No, please,” Jethro said, reaching out and grabbing onto Tony’s forearm tightly.

“You’re scaring me,” Tony whispered, resting his free hand on top of Jethro’s. The man’s endless mood swings had just been Gibbs processing a difficult case that had led to a major trauma but the man in front of Tony at that moment was like nothing he’d seen before.

“I’m sorry,” Jethro said, his voice still quiet and sounding slightly panicked.

“No, Boss,” Tony interrupted, shaking his head back and forth. “Stop it. Don’t apologize. I hate it when you apologize.”

“I’m sorry for being such a bastard. You’ve been here for me the whole time.”

“Boss, please,” Tony pleaded. “This is sounding like a deathbed confession. I—I’m calling 911.” The grip on his forearm tightened and Jethro’s eyes seemed to brighten and finally come into focus.

“It’s a panic attack,” Jethro reluctantly confessed. He’d had a couple after Shannon and Kelly had died and his entire life felt like it was falling apart. They’d gone away once he’d gotten his life back on track but apparently things were falling apart again.

“What?” More confusion. A panic attack? Gibbs? Their fearless leader? No…

"Please don't tell anybody," Jethro pleaded softly.

"Your secrets are always safe with me, Jethro," Tony replied, "you know that." He favored the man with another assessing glance before finally letting himself relax. It had been very, very bad indeed. Worse than he ever would've imagined. But it still could’ve been worse. "How about you let me help you up?"

"Okay," Jethro agreed.

"And will you finally let me help you change into some sweatpants, you stubborn fool?" Tony teased lightly. Jethro had come home from the hospital a week prior and hadn't changed out of his jeans yet. Tony was guessing it was a matter of pride but with each passing day he was getting more and more frustrated.

"Okay," Jethro agreed again.

The trek up the stairs was nothing compared to getting Jethro back on his feet with one knee completely immobilized in a brace, protecting it after surgery. Tony took advantage of the man's agreeable attitude and talked him into a shower before changing. He'd helped him wrap his leg and even washed everything Jethro couldn't reach, putting aside the awkwardness and stepping into the role without being asked.

“Thanks, Tony,” Jethro whispered softly as the man helped him into a pair of sweatpants that were so old they were actually coming back into style again.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right, Boss?” Tony said.

Jethro nodded, wishing he could express his feelings of shame and worthlessness to Tony. It was hard to not even be able to change his pants by himself. He wasn’t used to relying on other people.

Tony pulled the sheets on the bed back and fluffed the pillows. A night in a real bed instead of on the couch would do the man a world of good and why not take advantage of it since they were already upstairs and it was the middle of the night? He helped the man lie down and covered him up then walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down next to him.

“Remember when I had the plague?” he asked.

“I’ll never forget that,” Jethro admitted solemnly.

“I was so weak I couldn’t even make it to the bathroom without a coughing fit,” Tony continued, “let alone shower, so what did you do?” He smiled down at Jethro and reached over to rest a hand on the man’s bicep. “You stripped me naked and gave me a sponge bath in this very bed.”

Jethro chuckled softly at the memory. He’d been so nervous about the whole thing that he’d been less than gentle in his rush to put an end to the awkward situation.

“It’s not easy, Boss,” Tony said, seriousness returning to his voice, “this, having to rely on people. That’s not what we do. We’re the strong ones. We’re the protectors. We’re the ones who’re supposed to be taking care of other people.”

“I guess you do get it,” Jethro admitted quietly.

“I really do. Won’t be long before you’re back on your feet again, doing all those things but until then, please, let me help you. I promise I’ll make it as un-awkward as possible,” he paused and a sly grin crept across his face, “and I’ll be a lot more gentle with you than you were with me when I give you a sponge bath,” he teased.

“You’re not giving me a sponge bath,” Jethro grumbled good-naturedly.

“Oh, Boss, you are missing out!” Tony replied dramatically before his eyes softened and a genuine smile lit up his face.

Jethro let himself smile too. “Stay with me, Tony.” It came out as more of a hopeful plea than the gruff orders he was used to giving.

“I’ve stayed with you every night since I brought you home from the hospital.” Tony paused and grinned. “Sounds like I just gave birth to you or something,” he added with a chuckle but Jethro’s seriousness didn’t falter.

“Stay _with_ me, Tony,” he repeated, “right here, next to me.”

Tony gave Jethro’s bicep a loving squeeze and made himself comfortable in the bed. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Finally, _finally_ , there was a glimpse of the Jethro he knew and loved and for the first time since he’d watched the man drop lifelessly to the ground in Zakho, Iraq, he let himself breathe a sigh of relief because he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they were well on their way to their family being whole again.

**End.**


End file.
